Heal My Broken Soul
by Fly Airbourne
Summary: He's tired of being alone. Evan's there to break the walls down. EVAN/CHRIS JERICHO. SLASHH
1. Chapter 1

Title: Heal My Broken Soul

Author: Candy_rko

Pairings: Evan/Chris Jericho

Words: 1450

Summary: He's tired of being alone and Evan's there to break the walls down.

Disclaimers: Not mine

Notes: LOVE this pairing. Never written it before though. It's a teaser chapter to see how it goes over.

Chapter 1/3

Chris leaned against the wall, watching Evan Bourne and Mike Mizanin horse around in the ring. He knew he shouldn't be here. He wasn't exactly welcome, especially with the younger crowd. The ones that hadn't known him before the entire Incident with Shawn Michael's. Those that did understood why he was an asshole, why he was often in character when he didn't have to be; it was the impenetrable wall that kept him from being hurt again. But sometimes, like now, he wished his reputation didn't hinder him from socializing.

Evan knocked Mike to the mat, standing on the blonde's chest with a triumphant smirk and his peace sign trademark. Chris had to smile wanly; Morrison was yelling at Mike and Ron was cheering Evan on. Chris had always been curious about the exact nature of John and Mike's relationship… They were blindingly obvious in their attraction and if the two weren't suffering from unresolved sexual tension, then Randy wasn't fucking Cody Rhodes. Which wasn't true. Because _everyone_ knew about their _activities._

"You still keep to yourself."

Chris glanced at John Cena, his mask sliding back into place. Chris didn't imagine those cobalt eyes of John's rolling. John had been one of the few that hadn't given up on him, that had continued to harass him until Chris had been forced to tell him _everything_. And John hadn't abandoned him. That was the only reason Chris wasn't telling John to fuck off for intruding in his personal space. "You're observant," he commented dryly, crossing his arms in front of his chest, turquoise eyes narrowing as Mike flipped Evan onto his back; Chris didn't like the wince that contorted Evan's face.

John chuckled from beside him, dimpled grin still able to make Chris's stomach knot. Yes, even the great Chris Jericho had went through the customary John Cena crush. It was inevitable that every Superstar and Diva lusted after John at some point during their careers. "So, that's why."

"What?" Chris snapped, annoyed.

"Yeah, he's cute. Kind of small. Glad he's not blond or I'd have to pop a cap in your ass," John teased, slinging an arm across Chris's shoulders. "Your track record with blonde's is shitty."

"What the hell are you talking about, John?" He shrugged John off. "Because you're making about as much sense as Cody after he's had too much sugar."

"Evan. Come on, man, admit it. You like the kid. He's a good guy. Fun as hell. Hot ass."

Chris could only stare at John like he'd grown two heads. Because there was no way John was implying that Chris Jericho was attracted to Evan Bourne. Sure, Evan was easy on the eyes. Lithe build with compact muscles, dark hair and even darker eyes. That blinding smile of his. Chris bit his bottom lip, glaring at John. The motherfucker was right… "You suck, assclown."

"Hey, I'm Cupid. What can I say?" John winked cheerfully at Chris. "And you don't hate me so stop with the big, bad ass attitude. I've known you for years, Chris," John's tone was serious, "And you haven't really dated since Shawn. I know he hurt you, Chris, but you can't let that stop you from finding someone else that can make you happy. I trust Evan. I think you should too."

Crazy enough, Chris believed John. John was never wrong about people. He'd warned him about Shawn, warned him about Jason, warned him about Adam. And yet Chris had ignored John's advice. John never said, 'I told you so.' There were times when Chris was positive he would but never did. Chris supposed that was another reason he allowed John Cena in; his unfailing friendship and loyalty. "I don't know if I can."

"I know, Chris," John said softly, "But I'm here. You know that. Hey, you comin' to watch? I'm gonna educate these bitches in the school of hard knocks!" John laughed at himself and his own joke, his own façade erected. There were times that Chris forgot that underneath the light hearted exterior, wide grins, and playful demeanor of John Cena that there was an intelligent, introspective man with his own insecurities and demons. Chris could still remember in vivid clarity the night that Randy had called it quits with John. He'd never seen John that upset, never seen that much open vulnerability. And Chris really never wanted to witness it again.

"Might as well," Chris groused, following behind John, keeping his eyes from staring at that remarkably firm ass molded perfectly in his Marine Corps mesh shorts. And to think, Chris had had the chance to sleep with John.

"How about you take us both on?" Mike sneered, body touching Morrison's. _Yeah, not fucking each other my ass_… "Or don't you think you can handle it?" Mike mocked, earning himself an elbow to his ribs from the brunette god. "Ouch, fucker."

"John, ignore him. He's moody. I think it's his time of the month," Morrison ducked Mike's fist. "Seriously, take us both on."

"Never had a threesome before." "And with that, I'm leaving. Later, guys," Ron shook his head, probably wondering why he'd gotten mixed up with them in the first place. God knew Chris often thought the same, especially after a night of drinking with Randy and Cody. The two were like teenagers on prom night.

"What's _he_ doing here?" Mike asked loudly as Chris went to sit down for a better view. "I thought we were beneath him?"

"Hey, don't be such a dick, Mikey," Evan scowled, grabbing his shirt from the ropes and slinging it across his shoulder. "God, you're such a bastard sometimes. John, kick his ass, please?"

"I will, Ev. Don't worry about it."

Chris kept his lips from curling into a smile at Evan's ruffled feathers; all because Evan felt it necessary to defend him. Evan sank down beside him, chest heaving, droplets of sweat trickling down his sculpted abs. It made Chris feel a little self conscious about his own mid section. He wasn't fat but he wasn't as fit as he was ten years ago. Fozzy and the WWE kept him busy at all times. "Ignore Mike, ok? He's got this holier than thou attitude but if you see past that, he's a great guy. Sometimes," Evan laughed, "Not many are on Team Mizanin."

Actually, Mike reminded Chris of him. It was an unflattering comparison. Chris didn't want Mike walking the same path. One day, Mike would be all alone without any real friends if he didn't change. "Team Jericho either," Chris commented wryly, not taking his eyes off of John wiping the ring with Morrison and the Miz.

"I've been Team Jericho like the beginning of time. I mean, I remember when you debuted. I've followed your career. How dorky is that? Of course, it's worse that I'm _telling_ you."

Chris turned to look at Evan, the faint scarlet shade mantling on his cheeks was almost as gorgeous as John's grins. "Really? You're a fan?" He couldn't resist picking at Evan.

Evan nodded, "Yeah. Ok, I think I'm going to put my foot in my mouth now because I'm officially embarrassed. I really want to just melt through the floor."

"You don't have to be embarrassed. I'm flattered," Chris was surprised by his own boldness; it had been a long time since he'd last flirted with a member of the same sex. Shawn had nearly broken him and if hadn't been for John picking up the pieces of his shattered heart then… Chris owed John more than the younger man could ever possibly imagine.

"You are? I thought you'd be creeped out that a grown man that you work with is still a fan," Evan chuckled nervously, hands twisting in the fabric of his sweatpants. "I know I'd be weirded out."

Chris gazed at Evan, at those wide, murky brown eyes. He was tired of being alone… Tired of having to rely on John or Randy, not when both of them could barely stand each other because of their rocky past. Not when Randy was so consumed with Cody that if he wasn't on the phone with his young love, he was moping around because of him. "What room are you in?"

Evan's eyes rounded comically. "What?"

"Your room number. If I'm taking you to dinner, I need to know where to get you."

Evan did an imitation of a fish. "Um… 212... Are you serious? Like, dinner? A date or what? Ok, never mind. It's not a date because you're Chris Jericho and I know you're not interested in me like that because let's be real, I'm not-"

"A date." Chris stood, "See you at eight." Chris knew that Evan's eyes didn't leave him as he left and he knew without a doubt that John Cena would be calling him in ten minutes demanding answers.


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Heal My Broken Soul

Author: Candy_rko

Pairings: Evan/Chris Jericho

Words: 3280

Disclaimer: Not mine

_I'm at an end_

_Losing control_

_Trying to mend_

_This Broken Soul_

_Give me one more chance_

_For me to show_

_How much I need you to heal my... my broken soul_

-Fozzy-

Chapter 2

"You did _what?" _

Chris almost laughed at John's incredulous voice. "You're the one that kept telling me that I needed to put myself out there."

"No, my exact words were, 'you need to get laid!' Ok, don't get me wrong. I'm glad that you're taking Evan to dinner but… Look, I'm just worried you're going to break the kid's heart. He's not some pansy ass like Cody but he's been through a lot."

Chris eyed himself in the mirror. Deep blue t-shirt, dark wash jeans; not excessive but just enough that he _knew_ Evan would have a hard time looking elsewhere. "It's a _date_. It's not like I'm going to get on one knee and ask him to marry me tonight. John, I swear upon pain of death that I will not molest your boy."

"What's that supposed to mean!" John scowled, crossing the room to stand next to Chris, the other man's cobalt eyes roaming Chris appreciatively. Chris raised a brow at John's ogling. "Shut up," he snapped, blushing at being caught. "You look good. Really good. Makes me hungry."

"You're a dork," Chris shook his head. "Why haven't you and Cody done the horizontal tango in the past? Because you're two peas in pod. Randy's nothing like Cody. They're not compatible and yet it's Randy that worships the ground that brat walks on."

"With that kinda of attitude, I'm thinking you're jealous," John smirked, arms folded in front of his chest, "I think I've called your bluff, Chris."

"That was a long time ago," Chris said softly, glancing from the mirror to look at John. "I had him. Randy was young, impressionable. He admired me. And I threw it in his face that I was fucking Jason." Chris frowned, "I don't want to get into my past mistakes. Even you don't know them all." John sighed and Chris knew John was resisting the urge to wrap his arms around him; Chris wouldn't have welcomed the contact. Maybe once, Chris would have gladly offered himself to John Cena on a silver platter.

"I know that you're all into your secrets but I'm not gonna turn my back on you because of them. I haven't yet and God knows I should've years ago. But you're my friend and I respect your decision."

"Thanks."

"Chris," John smiled wanly, "You look fine. Quit checkin' yourself out and stallin.' He's not goin' to bite you. Unless you want him to." Those stupid dimples… "Have fun and it's not just him that I'm worried about."

"Ok, Daddy," Chris rolled his eyes, "I promise to be home by midnight and I won't touch Evan in places that-"

"Just go!" John laughed, shoving him towards the door, "I have to go keep Ortz company. The drama queen's demandin' my presence. I don't know why I let him boss me around. He's a fussy hussy."

Chris kept his thoughts to himself. Maybe John didn't even know about his feelings for Randy. It was possible. John had never been the sharpest tool in the shed when it came to his own romances. The revolving door that was John's love life had seen numerous men and women that held no interest for John past a couple of dates. "Have fun with His Royal Pain-in-the-ass."

"Fuck you," John pouted, flashing Chris a wink before turning down the hall that led towards Randy's room.

John Cena and Randy Orton. A match made in heaven that would have been a beautiful love story if Cody Rhodes hadn't come around. Since day one, Randy had been obsessed with Cody. If Chris was a more social man, he might have played Cupid. John would never admit to being a lonely man but in the middle of the night, Chris wondered if John held his pillow to his chest, wondered if John felt the bitter pangs of loneliness. Not that John Cena couldn't find companionship for the night. He used to quite frequently. He'd earned himself a reputation of being a womanizer. But maturing had stopped the one night stands. John needed someone that could keep up with his energetic personality, that would keep his heart safe and not crush it.

John Morrison and Mike were automatically ruled out. Chris made a face. He wondered how much of Mike he'd have to deal with now that they were tag team partners. If the blonde even started on his and JoMo's sex life, Chris would shove his fist down Mike's throat, tag team be damned.

"You're late," Evan's amused voice snapped Chris from his 'attempt' at match making in his head.

Chris _almost _lost his ability to speak.

Black trousers molded to Evan's lower body deliciously to the point that Chris was positive he was salivating. Each muscle in his thighs were framed by the material and that pert ass was- Chris forced himself to not stare as he raised his eyes to meet dancing brown eyes, trying his damnedest to not gaze at how the gray Affliction button up showed off his forearms or how the color accentuated the olive complexion and those deep, beautiful murky- "I apologize."

Evan shrugged, smiling, "It's ok. So, where do you have in mind?"

"I hope you like Italian." And damn was Chris grateful that Evan hadn't noticed Chris's lecherous staring…

"Who doesn't?" Evan asked rhetorically. "And, uh, I haven't been on a date in a long time. So, ignore me if I do something stupid. Because it's probably going to happen. A lot. See? Like that. I ramble when I'm anxious."

Evan's nervousness was kind of cute. He was used to men and women that threw themselves at him. "You don't have to be nervous around me, Evan. I'm not the ogre that the rumors make me out to be."

Evan flushed pink, "I know but you're Chris Jericho. I had your posters all around my room. My mom pointed at that I was gay because of that. Instead of Divas on my walls, I had you. Oh God, that sounded wrong." His entire face was red and Chris couldn't stop himself smiling. "Your face didn't creak."

"What?" Chris chuckled.

"I've never seen you smile. Mike told me if you did that your face would probably creak. Kind of like Randy. I like you smiling. You don't do it enough."

"No reason to."

"I guess mission accomplished. I made you smile," Evan laughed, "And we haven't even started our date. I think that makes my chances double." "Triple."

"I like those odds."

_Me too_.

Because God knew it had been a long, long time since Chris had given his heart away.

* * *

Chris discovered that he actually _enjoyed_ listening to Evan. He quickly realized that Evan's tendency to talk was a nervous habit. He hadn't been silent the entire ride to Momma Concetta's, a small Italian restaurant that was private enough that the two wouldn't be interrupted. He'd chatted about everything; from the Draft, to Randy and Cody, to his views on Obama. Evan was intelligent, something that Chris often sought in relationships. He was wicked funny with a sarcastic wit that surprised Chris. And it didn't hurt that he was gorgeous.

Chris only wondered what the catch was.

Because he _never_ got this lucky.

"I'm sorry. I keep talking and you keep listening. I swear, I'm not always like this."

"It's fine. I don't mind."

"Good. I just, I don't want to mess this up," Evan said quietly, "My record with first dates is with me losing most of the time. And I like you."

God, that honest, openness was going to be the death of him. He wasn't used to it. He'd grown accustomed to fake bitches and money hungry whores over the years. Not someone who's heart was just as blindingly beautiful as his appearance. "You like me?" he repeated, Evan shifting in his chair, hands folded in his lap. "You don't know me."

"Why did Randy chase Cody for weeks when Cody didn't even talk to him? Sometimes, it just happens and you can't explain it."

That was true. Chris had seen it enough. The magnetism that drew two people together. But Chris was still wary, still afraid of trusting inexplicably in someone else. Shawn had destroyed his faith in people. "How many men have you been with?" Chris asked bluntly.

"I can count on one hand. But I'm not a blushing virgin so don't you dare think about treating me like I am. I stopped letting men treat me like their bitch a long time ago."

"I wouldn't do that in the first place. I want equality. A man that takes as well as gives. I'm not interested in a prissy twink. If I wanted that, I'd sleep with Ryder. I respect you, Evan. Too much to belittle you like that."

Evan's answering grin was all Chris needed to know that he'd said the right thing. "I think that Mike's mistaken about you. And I've never been happier to prove that cocky fruit wrong. He told me that you'd never be interested in me as something other than a piece of ass. And I'm so tired of men and women that just want my body, that could care less about what else I have to offer."

"I'm going to have a long talk with my partner," Chris groused, "Slandering me doesn't help our working relationship. Are you ready to leave? This old man has to take a red eye to New York in a few hours."

Evan rolled his eyes, "You're not old."

"I'm pushing forty. I think that qualifies me as middle aged. You're all of what? Twelve?" Chris teased, finding that it was easier than he'd expected to allow some of the walls to lower around Evan Bourne.

"Twenty seven," Evan pouted. "Assclown."

"Hey, don't use my insults on me."

"I miss those days," Evan laughed, the two men ignoring the curious glances from the other guests, "When you called everyone an assclown."

"So do I."

"Someone really hurt you, didn't they?" Evan queried, the dim light from the street lamps in the parking lot shadowing them from onlookers. "I know it's not my business. Just… You look unhappy when you talk about your past."

Chris glanced around them; they were alone. The few passerbys on the sidewalks could have cared less and in the dark, they wouldn't have known it was two men. "I've had my heart broken more times then I care to remember. And I've done my share of hurting others too. Karma, right?"

Evan leaned against the passenger door of the Lincoln, looking particularly wanton. "You don't deserve it. At all. You're not the jerk that everyone says you are. I want to get to know you. Not this front that you keep up," Evan's hand was against Chris's chest. "But the man that you really are."

"What makes you so positive that this is a mask?"

"Because you smiled and meant it."

"If I took you back to my room and fucked you into the mattress right now, would you still want me in the morning?"

"Yes," the answer was quick, no hesitation.

Caution was thrown to the wind as Chris crushed their lips together, molding their bodies together. A shiver wound its way down his spine as felt Evan's cock pressing insistently against his thigh. At least he wasn't the only one in that situation. Chris had been aroused since he'd gone to Evan's room; maturity and experience had kept him from broadcasting his lust to the world. The way Evan was arching against him… It was sin in a flesh made body. Chris hand snaked between them, cupping Evan's bulge. The whimper that escaped those lips was pure sex. "Is this what you want, Evan?" Chris purred in Evan's ear, licking the shell of Evan's ear.

Chris didn't imagine the shudder of Evan's body. "Chris, I- Oh, god," Evan moaned as Chris rubbed the shaft with his palm. The boy was packing, Chris decided, feeling the cock harden more with every second.

"Do you want me to take you right here? Against the car where everyone can see?" Chris murmured, fingers deftly unzipping Evan's pants, freeing the cock from it's confinement.

"I'm…. Chris, I'm not usually like this," Evan breathed, lithe hips pistoning, "I've had a crush on you for twelve years. I used to jack off to you."

_That_ made Chris hot. The image of Evan masturbating to Chris's pictures or him on television? If he hadn't been dieing for a taste of Evan he most definitely was now. "How long's it been since you were last with a man?"

"A year." "Get in the car." Chris's hands were trembling as he started the car and pulled out of the parking lot. This wasn't his usual style. He wasn't into one night stands any more and rarely had sex on the first date but there was just something about Evan Bourne that had Chris drawn like a moth to a flame. And this wouldn't be a one night stand. No, Chris wanted to make this work. He'd have Evan craving more, missing him while he went to New York to promote Fozzy.

A noise next to Chris had him swerving into oncoming traffic.

The fucking sex kitten was stroking himself, eyes half lidded, pink tongue wetting his lips.

"Shit." Well, any thoughts of Evan being shy were gone because with how he was lazily gripping his cock… How it was pumping oh so sensuously in his fist… Chris was achingly hard against the denim. He could already feel himself dripping with pre-come. A record that showed his libido was not slowing down with age.

They didn't care about propriety as their hands were everywhere, as their mouths hungrily consumed each other's. They were lost in the sensations coursing through them, at not only the promise for mind blowing sex but the chance of more developing once the night passed. The connection wasn't to be denied as they stumbled into Chris's room, barely taking the time to lock the door. "You make me feel sleazy," Evan chuckled breathlessly against Chris's lips, brown eyes smoldering in the neon lights filtering through the blinds.

"You like it," Chris all but purred, nipping at Evan's throat, suckling on the flesh until he was positive there was a bruise.

"Oh God," Evan said weakly.

A thigh pressed between Evan's legs; he made an involuntarily noise in the back of his throat as that same thigh spread him wide. Evan rocked against Chris, desperate for some kind of contact and Chris wasn't about to deny Evan anything, as long as he looked so utterly debauched. Chris trailed the tips of his fingers over Evan's pecs and abs, tracing the arch of his hipbones. Evan's legs parted, giving Chris better access to the thick, hard cock jutting obscenely. "On the bed," Chris quietly demanded, eyes devouring the sinful image that Evan painted at that moment. Pants piled at his ankles, cock glistening with pearlescent drops, cheeks heavily flushed with desire…

"How?" Evan's voice was husky. "On my knees? On my back?"

Chris licked his lips. "I want to see you." Evan winked at him, spread eagle, giving Chris a perfect view of what he lusted for. "I'm here for the taking."

"I don't have anything to-"

Evan grabbed Chris's hand, sucking thoroughly on Chris's fingers, saturating them. That mouth on Chris's cock would feel _amazing_ but that would be for another time. Right now, he had the burning need to bury his shaft deep in Evan's body.

Evan shuddered as his body was breached, one of Chris's digits sliding inside. Evan gasped, hips bucking at the touch. "You weren't lying," Chris murmured, caressing Evan's internal walls. If Evan was gripping his _finger_ like this… He couldn't believe how _tight_ Evan was. "You have no idea how hot you look right now," even as he spoke, he was adding another finger, thinking in the back of his mind that if Evan was released from the WWE, he could make a fortune in the adult entertainment business with all the pornographic noises and faces he was making.

"Take me," Evan rasped out, "Please, inside me now."

"You're not ready yet."

"I don't care," Evan protested hoarsely, "I want you. I _need_ you. Inside me, filling me, stretching me. _Please_. Need it hot and rough and-" he broke off, Chris's fingers leaving his body, "Fuck me, Chris. We can take longer the next time."

Bare and hot with arousal, Chris thrust inside slowly. God, this was fucking _incredible_.

"Yes," Evan moaned, pushing back against Chris, wriggling his ass. "I won't break, Chris. Do it like you want to."

Grabbing the headboard for better stability, feeling Evan's legs wrap around his waist, he couldn't have stopped himself now even if wanted to. He wanted Evan's body to be in ecstasy, wanted to _own_ the younger man. Evan's meeting him thrust for thrust, gripping his cock sandwiched between him and Chris can't look away. The way that Evan's abs rippled with each motion, the veins in his forearm bulging as he pumped his cock… The muscles in his neck bulging.

Chris angled _just right_, the cry that spills from those cock sucking lips echoing through the room, and Chris was brutally pounding against Evan's sweet bundle of fuck. Evan's hand on his cock was speeding up and Chris know that it wouldn't be long. For either of them. Because it'd been so long and Evan was _perfect. _Evan was repeating his name over and over like a mantra, incoherent babble mingled in with Chris's name.

Evan's back arched off the bed, white ribbons of cum coating his hand, leaking onto his stomach copiously.

It's too much, feeling Evan clamp down _hard_ on Chris's cock and his moan of completion is muffled as he bites his bottom lip.

He rolled off of Evan, careful not to rest his full weight on him, withdrawing. He frowned at Evan's wince, "You ok?"

Evan nodded, smiling sleepily at him, "I'm fine. Hey, I haven't done this in a year. What do you expect? And you're not exactly a small guy," Evan glances at Chris's softening shaft meaningfully. "I guess you have to get going, huh?"

"If you don't think you can handle my schedule, I need to know now. I'm always traveling. Whether for Fozzy or the WWE. Not many can handle it," Chris said softly, "And I'll understand if you can't. If you want to back out now."

Evan laughed, "I'm not going anywhere. I just had the best sex _ever_ with _the_ Chris Jericho."

Chris pouted. "So the only reason you want me is for the sex? That hurts, Evan."

Evan smacked his head with a pillow. "Just, take your shower. I'll still be here when you get back. Well, not technically _here_ because we'll be in another city by then but- Stop laughing at me." He hit Chris again. "I'm going to sleep," Evan groused grumpily, burying himself underneath the blanket. "Shower," he pointed at the bathroom door, the only part of him visible except for dark locks fanned against a pillow.

"Alright, Boss. I'm going."

The heaviness of Chris's heart lifted as he took one last look at Evan before stepping into the bathroom.

Maybe Evan Bourne was his second chance.

Maybe Evan would heal his broken soul.


End file.
